


White Powder

by pipisafoat



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from elf: White Collar, Peter & Neal (or Peter/Neal); Peter catches Neal putting white powder into little baggies; Neal insists "it's not what you think."</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Powder

"Neal?"

He hunches immediately over the counter, then spies a convenient hand towel and drags it over his work. "Hey, Peter, what's up?" He pastes on his best conning smile and turns to look at his unexpected visitor. "You need me on the case already?"

"I did." Peter eyes the counter, then eyes Neal. "What are you doing?"

"I can't tell you." Suspicion flares in the agent's eyes, and Neal winces. "It's a surprise, okay?"

"A completely legal surprise?"

Neal puts on his best mock-wounded face, wondering if there's a way out of this. "Would I be involved in any other kind of surprise?"

"Yes."

He shrugs and steps away from the counter, intending to grab his hat and usher Peter out of his kitchen as quickly as possible, but he freezes when Peter's eyes grow. A quick glance behind him confirms - he's managed to drop the towel onto the floor, exposing his project. "It's not what you think," he forces out, as quickly as his tongue can move.

Peter's expression communicates his disbelief more thoroughly than any words ever could.

"It's a surprise. A ... a present. For someone. I can't tell you."

"I don't want cocaine for Christmas, Neal."

Neal rolls his eyes and picks the towel up off the floor, but he hesitates before setting beside the tray. "It's not for you, and it's not cocaine. Taste it or snort it or analyze it, whatever will make you happy."

Peter takes a few steps closer and reaches out to snag a baggie. "I'm not stupid enough to taste or snort anything that might be drugs."

"How stupid will you feel when you get the analysis back and have to explain it to Hughes?" Neal takes another bag, opens it, and drops a pinch of the white powder onto his tongue. "It's baking mix, and you're not allowed to tell anybody."

He's still getting the suspicious looks. "We're not supposed to know that you can bake?"

"It's nearly Christmas, Peter; you're not supposed to ask questions when I tell you not to tell anyone!"

"Tiny coke-sized baggies of baking mix are a terrible present." He tucks the baggie in his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket, and Neal suppresses a sigh.

"Are you seriously going to test it?"

Peter shrugs. "If I have to."

"Okay, but you still can't tell anyone."

* * *

She pulls the wrapping off her first miniature present and looks up in confusion at Neal. "One silicon baking cup?"

"One silicon baking cup," he agrees.

Her face brightens. "You did it!"

He grins back at her. "Of course."

"So these other gifts...."

Neal reaches out and selects three of her remaining presents. "Except these."

She rips them open quickly: a container of her favorite icing, some blue dog bone shaped sprinkles, and the smallest whisk Neal could find. She grins at him and laughs.

"Is anybody planning to share the joke with me?" Peter asks from his armchair, looking down at the pair on the floor with more fondness than his words might imply.

"Cupcakes!"

Peter raises an eyebrow at his wife, and Neal jumps in to fill the remaining breach. "You know how every time she makes a batch of cupcakes, she ends up giving half of them away to Mozzie because the two of you don't eat them fast enough?" Peter nods. "Now she can make one at a time. Or I could give her another baking cup so you can each have one and not waste any more on Mozzie."

Elizabeth reaches over and hugs Neal. "I love it. I can't believe you figured out a recipe for me! Just one question."

"Anything."

"Did you think of Mozzie's reaction?"

Peter's laughter fills the room at the stricken look on Neal's face.


End file.
